


Ghangst

by GremlinG4mer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Ghostbur, Like so much angst, it's been christened as ghangst, tbh most of it is gonna be various characters crying :), this is the most painful fic i've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:36:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GremlinG4mer/pseuds/GremlinG4mer
Summary: the idea for this fic comes from Numanum's lovely Discord server for her fanfic The Run And Go, we came up with the premise together a few days ago and my brain said yes please, so here we are.pog'st.(that's shakesperian for pog)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), they're Family - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Ghangst

**Author's Note:**

> the idea for this fic comes from Numanum's lovely Discord server for her fanfic The Run And Go, we came up with the premise together a few days ago and my brain said yes please, so here we are.
> 
> pog'st.
> 
> (that's shakesperian for pog)

“Phil, do you know who- do you know who Eret is?”

“Yeah…”

“He had a saying, he used to say, in the first war…”

“Wilbur…”

“It was never meant to be.” Wilbur’s tone shifted from agonized to lilted midsentence. He had decided, somehow he had always known, it would go like this. Before Phil could even react, he closed his eyes and pressed the button.

Saluting to nothing in particular, he smiled for the first time in months. He was finally free.

The multitude of bombs went off, like an orchestra of destruction tearing itself through the land he had fought so hard to claim as his own.

My L’Manburg.

The words rung in his ears even as the cave was blown open and the carnage was finally visible. There was Niki’s bakery, blown to pieces, flour clouding the air. There was the statue of the goddess Pokimane, her head grotesquely decapitated and resting at her feet. The Prime Path that had snaked through the country was now almost completely gone, its wooden boards thrown through houses, breaking windows and getting stuck in bushes. That horrible podium where Wilbur had first lost everything was also gone, though the sight of it brought him violent satisfaction instead of contentment.

MY L’Manburg, the song had said.

It was, when you came down to it, his L’Manburg. He had founded it, built it, fought for it and even ruled it for a while. When he and Tommy had been exiled, Wilbur should’ve been devastated. But all he had felt was relief.

Of course, he put on a good act for Tommy’s sake. That kid never stopped fighting for their country. But Wilbur had planned from the moment they were kicked out never to go back.

It wasn’t his anymore, and he didn’t want it to be.

“Oh my GOD, Will-” Phil yelled, his harsh words piercing through the ringing in Wilbur’s ears.

He opened his eyes and smiled, tears streaking his ash-covered cheeks.

“Phil, kill me.” He summoned his own diamond sword and threw it at Phil’s feet. Phil only stared in shock. “Kill me, Phil! Come on, just do it! Kill- Killza! Just- right through the heart. Right here.” He picked up his sword by the blade, slicing his hands open in the process.

He forced the sword into Phil’s hands and guided the blade towards his chest. “It’s okay, Phil, they all want me dead anyway!” Wilbur gestured frantically out the gaping hole in the cave wall at his friends, only dots on the ground, hands still bleeding.

Phil’s hands were shaking, but he didn’t drop the sword, which Wilbur noted with morbid satisfaction.

“Wilbur-” he was crying, Phil _never_ cried, “you’re my SON!”

Wilbur looked into Phil’s eyes. He leaned forward, feeling the cold mineral of his diamond sword make a shallow cut on his chest. He just wanted it to be over.

“Please, Phil… I just- I just want to be free… “ The words were almost a whisper. “Dad… please.”

Phil saw the anguish in his son’s eyes. He saw the pain that filled him tripled by the weight of the crimes he had committed. As much suffering as Phil had been through, he could tell Wilbur was going through so much more. And so Phil came to a decision.

Wilbur let out a soft gasp as the diamond sword pierced through his abdomen. His eyes glazed over and he collapsed into Phil’s arms. The arms that had always been there to catch him when he fell, or to hold him tight after a nasty nightmare. For the first time in years, and ironically as he was bleeding out from his own father’s strike, he felt safe.

He took a shuddering breath as Phil rocked him, softly singing a wordless lullaby. Wilbur’s clouded eyes met his father’s for the last time as he whispered, “Thank you.” 


End file.
